


Your Report, Mr. President

by TheFightingBull



Series: That's General Sephiroth To You [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: BAMF Sephiroth, Masamune, Sephiroth being petty, This is why Sephiroth doesn't write reports anymore, Tseng probably needs the restroom, long worthless tags, omg why does Masamune have a tag but BAMF Sephiroth doesn't, petty acts of revenge, probably because of Genesis, seriously, still too short for this many tags, they all do, vengeance, who would teach him to behave this way?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:18:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15292362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFightingBull/pseuds/TheFightingBull
Summary: Who knew Sephiroth could be so petty?





	Your Report, Mr. President

They would live to regret this moment. Of that Sephiroth would be sure. He wanted a shower and a warm meal. He desperately needed both, especially before his silver hair became stained crimson or worse…brown. But his ‘superiors’ demanded a report be laid on the president’s desk detailing the past three days before he would be allowed any type of reprieve.

For twelve hours they were going to delay his needs because they felt he had not completed his duties until the reports were finished. All of this had been cleared of course by Hojo himself, who had apparently assured the president that Sephiroth was more than capable of going without food or rest for nearly a week before anyone would notice negative effects.

Too bad the “good doctor” hadn’t taken in to account that people who were sleep and food deprived tended to get…what was the word ‘Geal used for Gen’ when his sleep was interrupted? Ah, yes.

Cranky.

Somehow, the word wasn’t nearly strong enough to fit Sephiroth’s current mood, but then Sephiroth had learned to live by one constant in his life. Don’t get mad; get even.

 

* * *

 

Tseng sat at the large round table, his legs and buttocks numb. His eyelids were heavy and he had never been more bored in his life. He’d been sitting for hours, literally, in this one spot. He glanced over at Genesis and Angeal, shocked by how perfectly comfortable they seemed despite having sat in the same position for the same six hours Tseng had. The others looked just as bad and yet not one soul dared to move from their seat. Not even to go take a piss.

Not with the newly appointed General Sephiroth in such a foul mood and standing before them.

The silver haired man was at the head of the table, standing tall as he went over the mission. He still stinking from said mission’s previous activities and kills. Despite appearing well rest himself, he was as filthy as he’d been when he departed the helicopter last evening. Why hadn’t he showered? The smell was awful! Though, it wasn’t the gore or smell that kept everyone in their seat.

No.

What kept him, and all the others seated was the fact that Masamune was in his left hand. The threat, and that’s exactly what it was, made all too clear as he read aloud from his seven-hundred-twenty-nine-page report on his three-day mission in Wu Tai.

Nothing, absolutely nothing was left out.

He detailed in perfect description every little thing he did. Outlining everything in flawless chronological order. He went over details such as how many times he blinked in an hour. The average was an impressive five. He noted the various temperature fluctuations of the day, the state of cleanliness he and his men were in, the frequency of calls to nature, the amount of times he felt it necessary to chew a single bit of food or, and easily the most frightening of all, the ease in which Masamune slid in and out of bodies during the skirmishes.

 The only hint to his ire was the way he would now and again challenge someone with a narrowing of his intense eyes. That look was daring the person he focused on to tell him that the information was irrelevant.

No detail was left unaccounted for and worse, they were mostly required to follow along with their own copies of the damnable report. An hour prior, the secretary for the president had dared to yawn and found herself staring at Masamune’s point.

When Sephiroth finally chose to continue, and only because Angeal had cleared his throat, the woman looked like she was about to drop dead of fright.

Tseng looked at the stack in front of him. They were only a third of the way through the report. He looked to his own superiors from his peripherals. The miserable, frightened expressions were shared by the collective present and one thing was certain.

No one was ever going to require Sephiroth to write another report again.


End file.
